It left bloody handprints as it scuttled across the cracked ceiling. Black candles lit up the crude pentagram scrawled on the squat’s dank walls and cast its shadow to dance obscenely over the carnage of bleeding, broken bodies. It looked down in wicked delight at the inverted crucifix and growled in a thousand tongues, ‘I am Legion.’ Its mind was predominated by evil, but deep in the dark recesses an infinitesimally small light flickered, the innate soul barely thirteen years in existence. The last thing she remembered saying was, ‘Oh Satan, Great Lord of Darkness, grant me your awesome power.’
5 Comments
Candace Arthuria Williams
30/10/2020 01:10:24 pm
Bittersweet is right. I feel for her.
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Bobby Warner
30/10/2020 01:58:26 pm
I suppose we'd all like to have more power over our lives--but not like this! Good one, Al.
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Wendy Watt
30/10/2020 06:08:57 pm
Very apt for this weekend...........Very true to life......the grass is not always greener on the other side, especially for this poor soul.
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Sue Clayton
31/10/2020 02:08:00 am
The devil's in the detail in this one, Al. Shivery.
Reply
Mary Wallace
31/10/2020 05:40:35 am
Your title says it all. Well done.
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